


Off Balance

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ahch-To, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Ass Play, Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, Chaotic Neutral Luke, Deflowering, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Force Tantrum, Force paralysis, Fucking, Hair-pulling, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jedi Mind Trick, Jedi Temple, Jedi Training, Kissing, Lanai Caretakers, Loss of Virginity, Luke Skywalker Is An Asshole, Luke and Rey Are Not Related, Masturbation, Missionary Position, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Onanism, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Porn, Porn With Plot, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reywalker, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut, Spit As Lube, The Force, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virgin Rey, ass licking, but canon!luke is awesome anyway, first time anal sex, force orgasm, jerking off, vaginal rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-01 09:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15771099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A lemony story that began as a one-shot assertion that anything goes in fanfic has taken on a life of its own, with new chapters added. Lust leads to darkness. An imagining of Luke & Rey's descent into depravity. Read the tags and please carefully consider if it's likely to be to your taste before being lulled into reading the prose.  Or just hate-read, that's OK too.  Kudos appreciated, comments welcomed. Will be updated if the muse strikes.





	1. Chapter 1

Some days he hated Ahch-To. Most days, lately. Luke Skywalker looked up at the stormy sky, pregnant with darkening clouds, then down to the churning sea washing over the rocks below him. At times, he lost track of how long he’d stayed on this island…it was rather masochistic, this self-imposed exile at the site of his greatest, spectacular, failure. The ruins of the temple were a constant reminder of his inadequacies as a Jedi, as an uncle, as a man. Luke had convinced himself he was serving as a guardian for the place; his role was to ensure that the sacred texts didn’t fall into the wrong hands. But the truth was, he was voluntarily incarcerating himself, justifying it through casuistic means. The toil of daily existence was also welcome—he was constantly addressing his own survival, which encouraged the absence of introspection, remembrance, and nostalgia for his younger self.

Youth. He turned his pale blue eyes down the cliffside, towards she who had joined him on his island prison. Rey. Young, yes, but driven, optimistic in a way that made his abused heart clench with distant thoughts of heroism, dreams of a better world that he’d long abandoned.

She had come willingly, delivering him from solitude but destroying his peace. He didn’t like teaching her, didn’t want to be a role model or some sainted symbol of the Rebellion. _So why am I doing it_? he wondered, the lines on his face deepening. If anything, Luke felt less qualified now than when he’d lost Ben…his nephew, his sister’s joy, his best friend’s pride.

It was clear Rey viewed him as a figure of legend—some sort of savior, she had said as much. And she challenged him openly, viewing his refusal to discuss the past as modesty or pride rather than disinterest or shame. It wasn’t going well, that was for certain. She had invaded his tranquility as a Force Adept who was already dangerously close to the Dark, and Luke doubted his own ability to show her the truth. The darkness promised answers to her many questions, but the Dark Side lied for its own reasons. Rey’s naïveté made her want to believe the lies, or at least to listen to them.

Luke sighed and watched Rey more openly, taking a step closer to where she was gamely fielding the combat remote he’d unearthed from the Falcon. He hadn’t put a blast shield on her eyes yet, not trusting her strength until he’d seen her gain better control of her impulses. And the girl was impulsive. Smiling slightly, the expression all but hidden by his beard, Luke thought she would have been a very bad influence on his callow self back on Tatooine. Rey spun deftly, impressively blocking a triple blast with a well-controlled pirouette. Her legs tensed beneath her clothing, calves flexing, sweat beading a line along her neck. She was distracted by the Jedi’s approach, however, and the next shot from the droid smacked into her thigh with a sizzle.

Cursing softly, Rey lowered the lightsaber and nodded at her Jedi teacher, a blush rising in the embarrassment of her failure, eyes low. He didn’t want her to call him Master, didn’t really like her talking to him at all, it seemed, but she persisted. She knew Luke was a hero, even if he didn’t believe it himself. Her whole life she had heard about him as a myth, almost a god. That sort of idol-worship would take more than a few days of an old man’s crankiness to dispel.

Luke didn’t need to point out her error—she’d been preoccupied with his approach, her reddened face evidence of her awareness of the mistake. In a moment of appraisal, he took in the signs of Rey’s exertion. Chest heaving…ivory skin emanating warmth and shining with sweat. Sheets of hair, thrown loose from her girlish buns, whipped wildly in the building winds which heralded the coming storm.

“I’m sorry,” Rey said.

“For what?”

She was confused a moment.

“I was frustrated at my error. I…lost control of my feelings.”

Luke nodded slowly, surprised but not showing it. She revealed promise in this regard—recognizing her emotional response and not the physical failure as the more dangerous of the two.

“It happens. You cannot deny the darkness inside, but you must control it.”

Something in his voice made Rey pause before seeking clarity. “And you…feel the Dark Side? You take it in…control it?” She looked at him earnestly, wondering how he could give off a sense of calm and menace at the same time. Rey idolized Luke, that was true, but she also was intimidated by him. His unwillingness to engage often with her, to be friendly or converse at length, all made her think she wasn’t truly welcome. It was so different than her experiences with his old friends. So she chose her questions carefully, not wanting to give Luke Skywalker a reason to make her leave.

Luke looked hard at Rey, hearing an echo of his nephew in her question. Long ago, Ben had asked him the same thing. “Can I control the Dark Side? Can it serve us as the Light Side of the Force?” Luke couldn’t remember what exact response he had provided, and didn’t want to repeat those mistakes, especially with one as untrained as Rey. Ben, as a child, had been quiet, contemplative, and still been turned, becoming the embodiment of chaos and impetuosity. Rey’s erroneous conviction that her strength in the Force gave her insight into an imagined conflict inside Kylo Ren made this a path Luke had to avoid.

Biting back a sigh, Luke responded, words clipped, trying to keep annoyance at his own failings at bay. “I misspoke. The Dark Side must be denied. To believe you can control it will lead to failure and destruction. It doesn’t serve you, you will serve it. Seek balance.”

The wind blew with sudden ferocity against the cliff, as if trying to infuse Luke’s counsel with futility. The sound of his own voice had annoyed him. Luke remembered when she arrived, the girl believed learning about the Force would give her control. Once upon a time, he may have believed the same thing. But he had been wrong, and she seemed determined to push the issue. Seeing Rey opening her mouth with another question, Luke turned and briskly walked away.

Up the path, he heard distant thunder rumbling closer, and retreated into his corbelled hut. The rain began, and Luke sat heavily against the stone, rubbing his forehead, eyes troubled. She was so damn sincere, so willing to believe anything he told her. She was innocent and thought herself worldly. It was a dangerous combination.

And there was more, if he could admit it. Other reasons Luke resisted contact, wanting to keep his distance. A flash in his mind of Rey’s clenched jawline, the tense arc of her throat, her tight clothing stretched, a second skin as she lunged and parried…Years of celibacy by circumstance were being threatened by the constant presence of this fledgling Jedi.

Oblivious to her own assets and to his determination to avoid noticing them, Rey demanded his attention. She tested his resolve, his focus, his search for peace. Luke imagined she had been largely ignored as a tomboy on Jakku, her hips boyish and her build slight. But he had been taken in by her angular form, the lean and smooth limbs that responded to his instruction. After their first lesson, when he’d touched her, pressing her hand into the rocks… Closing his eyes, the Jedi sucked in a breath and thought about how her dark hair had swirled out of its restraints on the cliff, giving a softness to her face. Her lips when she spoke…The soft insistence of Rey’s questions was increasingly maddening to him. Since her arrival, Luke had been forced to find release in the grim climaxes of furtive masturbation, and he turned once again to this method of expiating his desire.

As the rain drummed a manic symphony outside, Luke stood up, robes silent, and moved deeper into the candlelit dwelling. He turned towards the wall, bending his head as his left hand reached beneath his clothing and stroked his neglected cock. He’d felt his erection building since Rey deflected the three shots of the remote, her body whirling, tight, sinewy. Now, as he gave into it, his fist moved roughly, the motion one he’d practiced all too much over the past few days.

Luke allowed his thoughts to run riot as his hand brought him expertly ever closer to orgasm. Rey, biting her lip, eyes wide as he penetrated her. Her eyebrows arching as he thrust inside her virgin body. Her pouty mouth wrapped around his cock, every one of her tight holes offered to him. Thunder punctuated the denouement, and Luke groaned quietly, hating himself for this lack of control, and resenting his pupil for not offering him an alternative.

An unexpected presence near the hut entrance made him start, and Luke felt a pit in his stomach. He had been quiet—discreet. No way would she have heard. And Rey knew she was not welcome in his private quarters. Grabbing a stiffened rag, Luke swallowed back shame and disgust at himself. He was old enough to be her father. She would never consider him in that way…

Gasping, Rey stood beneath the downpour, her mind racing. She hadn’t meant to…she knew she wasn’t allowed. But she had so many questions, and well, Luke knew she was pushy. She had been pushy since she got there, after all, not taking no for an answer. And her teacher had left before she had absorbed his latest pronouncements—she’d had so many questions. And then…

Taking a deep breath, trying to slow her pulse, Rey decided firmly not to think about what she thought she had seen. The storm’s soundtrack had masked her brief intrusion, but she hadn’t knocked, had she? Her eyes hadn’t been accustomed to the dimness, and she wasn’t familiar with Luke’s rooms. Of course, curiosity had led her there before, once when he was out on some errand for the Lanai. Then, she had quickly felt out of place, as if betraying the Jedi’s trust, and left. But, if she was honest, it wasn’t just what she thought she had seen—it was also what she had _sensed_. Turmoil, torment, disgust, lust. A foreign negativity, dominating and frightening. It was beyond her. She couldn’t come up with an explanation, but she would do her best to put the image of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, silhouette to the wall, arm pumping furiously beneath his clothing, from her mind.

The squall passed, and Luke emerged, his face unreadable. Rey was gone. His guts writhed, his eyes narrowed. Something Dark polluted the air. Luke reached out with the Force, searching. She was at the Cave…and she was…

Luke wanted nothing more than to shut himself off from all this. He had been largely successful, before this stubborn girl’s intrusion into his life. The old Jedi felt his weakness like a disease, poisoning him, drawing him away from his duty to his student. But he rallied. If she wanted to enter, if she thought she was ready, he had to allow it. But the least he could do would be to warn her.

Rey stood facing the raging ocean, feeling the Force surrounding her, calling to her. It had drawn her here, in her confusion and embarrassment. She felt aflame, her entire body humming with the life and energy of the sacred island. Black vines tangled at her feet, an entrance revealed, deep and promising. Rey lifted her lightsaber, uncertain, as Luke appeared behind her.

He said nothing at first, but Rey sensed a residual darkness in him that quickened her heart and dried her tongue. Did he know? Did he suspect? Then, a truly crazy thought…what if Luke actually had gone to the Dark Side and had fooled them all? Would she be able to defend herself?

Luke felt her confusion but didn’t attempt to read her thoughts. “If you would enter,” he started, “you must first calm your mind.”

Calm? Rey felt anything but calm. She felt strangely threatened, out of place, and had a bizarre wish to flee into the turbid waves. This fear was burgeoning at the edge of her consciousness, and she struggled to push it away. Taking a long inhale, she fought to control her voice. “I sense so much darkness.”

She had thought it was coming from the cave, but perhaps it was also coming from her mentor. She still clung to her lightsaber, unlit but at the ready, unsure what she was afraid of but instinctively cautious.

Luke allowed himself a moment to form an answer, knowing this was a critical experience for her. “There is darkness. But also light. Rey…” her name lingered in the air between them. “You must find the balance. Seek balance.”

Luke felt frustrated that his tutelage paled in comparison to Master Yoda’s, but he had told Rey he would teach her, and he was trying. The prescient words of his own diminutive teacher echoed in his memory. _That is why I fail._ Luke was not teaching…he was _trying_ to instruct her, to reach her. Still, he hadn’t expected her to be drawn to this place again so quickly, and it set off alarms in his brain.

“I’m not afraid,” Rey said defiantly, her eyes lambent and unblinking. “I will go in. I will find balance.” She turned then, fluidly, determined, and leapt into the Cave beneath the overgrown earth, not looking back nor awaiting his response. Luke sat on the slippery rock and waited, the blackened waters roaring applause at her departure.

As he waited, Luke tried to meditate, desperate to find the balance he’d just counselled in his student. He failed, and suddenly, surely, he felt a shadowy energy constricting him. Doubt slithered into his heart. He shouldn’t have let her go in—the Cave would reveal his secrets, would twist his desires into something perverse and unnamable, would drive Rey from his island and he would lose another Jedi to the Dark.

Inside the Cave, Rey staggered under an oppressive weight that bore both danger and shame. She didn’t understand it, she looked all around, trying to make sense of it. And then they began…visions. Showing her all her insecurities, fears, needs, and wants. Fear was the gateway to the Dark Side, and Rey had carried in an abundance, giving the Force plenty of emotional ammunition with which to attack her. A shuddering need filled her, overtly sexual, taking her aback. It was drawing her deeper in, and when she took a step, tempted to follow this aching intensity where it wanted to lead, she felt powerful, swollen with confidence. She was in control—it was Luke that was weak and slave to his desires. What she had witnessed in the hut was evidence of his failings, but more importantly of his fragility. He was afraid of _her_ …of her strength and command of the Force. He knew he couldn’t compete or hold her back. No wonder Kylo Ren had quit this place. Luke Skywalker was not a saint, he was no longer a hero, he was a broken man who couldn’t teach her anything. As if to underscore her revelation, she felt the power of the darkness enter her, bringing her towards ecstasy. It was beyond anything she had ever experienced, a completely unbidden orgasm of the body and mind that shook her and fortified her. Her own Force strength reflected in the intensity of her climax, Rey smiled, breath ragged from the sheer pleasure. She had learned all there was to learn. She could do this alone now.

A malevolent disturbance in the Force crashed into Luke’s mind, winding him even as he sat, cross-legged and still, on the damp stone. He struggled to focus, to control the crippling grief in his heart as he realized the magnitude of this failure. He had lost her. As he had lost Ben so many years ago. She hadn’t even been inside long, it felt mere minutes, yet Rey had been drawn immediately to the Dark Side, to the power and the wish fulfillment it offered. She hadn’t resisted, ignoring his warnings. She was a fool, Luke realized with familiar horror, too late. Why hadn’t he seen the signs? He had been too distracted by the curves of her form, his misplaced, lascivious temptation, the heat of her presence that disrupted his nights. Luke willed himself to his feet, face stony. A soft hum as his lightsaber illuminated was the only sound as he awaited Rey’s inevitable return.

He didn’t wait long. Rey pulled herself purposefully, confidently above the ground, only pausing a moment before lighting her own weapon, then taking up a well-practiced fighting stance. The Force around her was turbulent, reckless. Her arms tensed, her eyes flashed. “You lied to me,” she said, voice steely.

Luke didn’t hesitate, on her in an instant. She couldn’t be allowed to live, to leave in this condition. She was clearly stronger than Kylo Ren, and could do more damage if she survived. Their blades clashed and crackled, but as gifted as Rey was, she had only recently begun training with the Jedi weapon, and was clearly outmatched by Luke’s experience. Her anger made her brash, her over-confidence her undoing. Luke sensed her hatred, disgust, directed at himself, and the implicit realization that she had seen him during the storm, in his moment of weakness. His momentary shock gave her only an instant of advantage, before the older Jedi recovered his composure and, almost casually, used the Force to pull his old lightsaber from Rey’s sweaty grip, disarming her.

Glaring at him, eyes slits, Rey tried to pull it back, failing. Her lack of control only intensified her frustration, and she yelled, rushing headlong at Luke in a move oddly reminiscent of one he’d seen Han execute long ago. Bracing himself for the impact, Luke slowed her approach with the Force. But as if reconsidering, right before reaching him, Rey stopped her barrel run and knelt in the pooling water at his feet, meeting Luke’s weary eyes. She knew what he wanted, what his weakness was…Her fiery eyes looked pointedly at the front of Luke’s cloak.

 _That can’t be what this is about…_ Luke thought, trying to stifle the confusion and shame that rose in his chest. Rey was behaving as one possessed, in the same way Ben did those years ago. So why had she stopped fighting? Gripping both hilts tighter, lowering the blades, Luke took a step back, uncertain.

Rey stood then, taunting him. “Aren’t you going to try to talk to me, reason with me? Or have you already given up, like you gave up before? I told you I wouldn’t fail you, but you didn’t believe me. And now…now I know _you_ failed. You…you…” she couldn’t finish, feeling a growing conflict in her breast. The conviction that had consumed her inside the Cave faltered.

She was right about one thing…Luke had failed her. But he wasn’t going to fail to stop her, as he had done with Ben Solo. Slowly, sadly, Luke reached to reactivate his lightsaber. He had to end it. He couldn’t rely on his own ability to reach Rey, now that he was so plainly confronted with the uncontrollable power that had claimed her.

“Luke…” Rey said, his name soft, her eyes on his weapon. Was it a plea? A question? She took a step, then two, closing the distance between them, and stood up against him, as if daring him to strike. Luke hesitated, feeling the unwelcome stiffening of his cock again at her proximity, seeing her torn clothing, her scratched arms, streaks of dirt along her legs and face. To surrender to this would mean death, Luke thought. It was giving in to the Dark Side, to his visceral desires instead of following the true path of a Jedi.

“Rey…” _Please don’t do this,_ he wanted to say, but the instant her name left his lips, Luke lost the ability to continue, senses too heightened by the heat of her, pulsing against him. Luke couldn’t consider any longer. He didn’t want to kill her, he wanted to take her, to possess her and make her cry and moan. It seemed impossible, but he slowly lowered his head, tormented blue eyes fixed on the glazed madness in Rey’s, and then, surprising himself, he kissed her, almost gently. She reacted immediately, the touch an alarm or awakening in her, pushing at him, pulling back. Luke ignored her recoil, crushing her closer, his mouth now violently colliding with hers, his body burning as his lips refused to leave her. Rey pushed harder, trying to escape, knowing she had driven him to it but never imagining this outcome. Realizing her impotence, she tried to summon the Force, tried to remember her training or even react on instinct, but all concentration rebelled against the hard lips opening her, the angry tongue pushing against her own, the unexpectedly solid and muscular body that trapped her in a vicious embrace.

Luke knew he had gone too far to deny himself, and, with a sense of anguished relief, surrendered to the animal desire overwhelming his being. Her lips tasted salty, her tongue was soft, fighting a losing battle against his invasion. Realizing he still clenched their weapons, Luke flung them into the Cave’s abyss, freeing fingers to seize her ass, pulling Rey roughly against the erection beneath his robe. She tensed; he felt her muscles coiled, waiting for the moment to strike or run. But Luke could feel her turmoil, her lack of focus, and took full advantage. In one movement, he pushed the V-shaped shirt below her shoulders, trapping her arms in the rough fabric. Her small breasts exposed to the sea spray, he reached for her, maintaining a vise-like hold on her waist with his other arm. Cupping her firmly in the warmth of his left hand, Luke squeezed and massaged, kissing her again, hard and punishing. Rey whimpered into his mouth as her body arched from the sensation. It was too much for him, and Luke pulled back, looking into her flushed face, trying to read some message in her dazed expression. The slight increase in space between them provided her an opening to renew her objections, but Rey hung strangely against his arm, panting, like a metal spring draped over a chair. There was strength there, but it was dormant.

If Luke had once thought this was wrong, he no longer cared. If Rey had ever been worthy of his concern or consideration, she had abandoned that right when she chose the Dark. He would give her his own darkness, and show her what resulted from a true lack of control.

Spinning Rey away from him in a cruel parody of her earlier pirouette, Luke twisted one hand in her hair, fingers hard against her skull, as his mechanical counterpart swiftly tore the clothes from her seditious limbs.

Rey began to stir, the chill of the ocean air and the pain in her scalp bringing her back to herself. What had happened? What was Luke doing? What had she done? Shame consumed her, as memories returned. She _had_ failed him, been drawn to the darkness, even welcomed it. And this humiliation seemed to be the punishment. She tried to turn around, a sharp cry escaping her throat as Luke’s hand tightened in her long tresses. She made another attempt, reaching behind her, trying to make contact with him, groping, slapping, but only felt her own clothing as it pooled to the drenched ground. She tried to grasp the material, but Luke smoothly released her hair and twisted her arm instead, refusing to let her face him, restricting her movements effectively.

Now Luke moved in a frenzy, as if any pause would invite a crack in his resolve. He would have her, he would purge his own iniquities right here, with her complacency. They both would confront the Dark. He was open to it now—she had made it so. Together they would achieve one another’s corruption and disgrace. These and other degrading words surfaced and shattered in his thoughts, mocking who he used to be. A Jedi Knight. A medaled hero of the Rebel Alliance. A dreamer. A bitter taste rose in his throat as Luke forcefully closed his mind from further contemplation, returning his attention to the newest ruiner of his legacy.

Rey’s slim body was exposed, immobilized by his arms. She was slightly bent over from the pain in her imprisoned shoulder, but he yanked her up, reaching around her torso with a searching hand, the other, stronger one, controlling her from behind. That untamed hair that had so enthralled him earlier caressed his face, and he inhaled deeply, welcoming the intoxication. Her sweat, the salt, the fading scent of rain and damp filled his lungs and firmed his resolve.

Breathing more steadily, Luke’s left hand slid lower, reaching for her sex. It had been his intention to move slowly, probing, but he had been denied this too long not to be quickly overcome. Luke could only manage to dip his middle finger between her legs before knowing he wouldn’t last like this. She was wet, the lingering effect of her sensual encounter inside the Cave. Without speculating as to the cause, Luke freed himself, shedding his robe, pushed Rey to her knees, and slammed his cock into her cunt from behind.

A silent scream wrenched her face as Rey received the full length of him, so sudden and merciless. Pebbles scraped at her skin, drawing blood. She had been a virgin, and no matter how lubricated she was, this was painful. Leaning her forehead on the unforgiving stone, her left hand clenched rhythmically at nothing as Luke withdrew and pushed in again, making her feel every inch of his rigid cock. Rey felt something break inside her, but couldn’t tell if it was physical or mental. Her mind stopped trying to make sense of anything that was happening, and she bit her lip and tried to inure herself to Luke’s raw assault.

Luke lost himself to the movement, only existing in connection to Rey’s body. His betrayal of her belief in him, of the Force, of his own goodness, was complete. He couldn’t fight it, no longer wanted to. Luke had become a master of excuses over the past twenty years, and could have invented numerous justifications for this indignity. But foremost in his mind was the pure sensation—she was so tight, so hot, so _deserving_ of this violation. Her elegant spine, taut muscles, and fine hairs captivated him as he tore into her, nothing natural about the ferocity of his onslaught. He kept a hold on her twisted arm with his right hand, the other seeking her tiny asshole and exploring it, opening her more fully to him.

When he grazed her ass, Rey thought she would lose her mind. She was an innocent in many ways, and it hadn’t ever occurred to her that this would be an erogenous zone. Her thoughts simply fled, and as she was forced wider by a calloused finger, Rey began to buck beneath Luke’s body.

Rey’s frantic movements squeezed him tighter, brought him to her depths, her body wild, but from passion or protest Luke could not be sure. He stretched her, exposing her further, feeling her twitch around him as he impaled her savagely, repeatedly. He rode her as long as possible, possessing her as he had dreamed of doing, then felt the inevitable hot surge of cum rising. Forcing the final thrust as deep as he could go, Luke exhaled unevenly as liquid heat flooded into the prone woman before him. Rey continued to spasm, drawing out his orgasm almost painfully. Finally, pulling her slightly closer against him, Luke reluctantly left her battered sex, carefully releasing her twisted arm and allowing Rey to collapse onto the rock.

A minute ago, Luke had refused to weigh his actions or consider their ramifications. Now, looking at the pale expanse of skin displayed before him, he tried unsuccessfully to prolong that oblivion. The most incessant question— _What now?_ —refused to disappear.

Rey felt the blood returning to her limbs as Luke released her, but couldn’t move. She was in shock, in pain, and uncertain as to what had just transpired. She no longer knew anything, it seemed. Luke Skywalker had just fucked her, brutally, in the dirt. Did she deserve it? Was he a monster? Was _she_? Were either of them to blame, or the Cave, the Force? Uncertainty terrorized her, paralyzing her thoughts. Rey no longer understood what to feel or how to act, and the idea of moving on from this spot, this moment, horrified her. She lay, unthinking, unfeeling, unmoving, un _being_ , if she could will it.

Disturbed by the girl’s lack of movement, Luke dressed, his blood cooling but adrenaline still pumping through his veins. Gathering up Rey’s torn garments, but seeing that they would not cover her modesty in their ragged state, he stepped carefully, deliberately to her side, and lay his outer cloak over her shoulders. She didn’t react.

Somehow unable to utter Rey’s name, Luke searched for words to bring this episode to an end. When he spoke, his voice was steady.

“There is no balance. The Jedi have failed and will continue to fail. And I cannot be what you need me to be.”  

An eternity passed. The night was falling, and finally Rey stirred, at first unsure if Luke still was there. He was, she suddenly sensed him, felt his silent gaze. Slowly, she found her feet and, without looking at him, walked back towards the settlement.


	2. Chapter 2

Luke watched Rey walk away, eyes tracking her uneven steps from the sea. He felt an inexplicable peace, particularly given what had just transpired. She had entered the Cave looking for something, demanding instant gratification instead of trusting the Force. And Luke had shown her the consequence of unconsidered action.

His clothes felt looser, his mind clearer, as he looked up the cliffs at the remains of the temple. The night’s events were a violent testament to his belief: The Jedi Order was dead. Rey did not have the strength or control required to continue their legacy, and he no longer wished it. Luke found that he didn’t mind this epiphany. It brought relief, not regret. The weight of his responsibilities evaporated; the prickings of his long- suffering conscience had fled. Luke was free.

\---------

Rey lay still on the austere cot, mind attempting to knit thoughts into any possible semblance of a pattern. Squeezing her shut eyes tighter didn’t help, made it worse, in fact. Without the distraction of sight, she was even more aware of her physical distress. The soreness in her joints, the dull pulsing where her knees had been scraped raw, puffy lips that felt too large on her face…Flinching, Rey turned onto one side, then quickly rolled back. Somehow the shift had made it worse.

The unrelenting burn in her guts defied her attempts to ignore it. When he’d entered her, it had been agony. Rey could still feel it; Luke’s intrusion had damaged her, taking her virginity and leaving these knives inside her.

She tried to will herself into slumber, and failed. An uncooperative brain instead presented her with tactile, vivid memories. Feeling a tear well up, Rey blinked it back. She would not give in to this. She would own it. If she couldn’t avoid it, she would confront it. As if on cue, every part of her body cramped as one, asshole clenching at the memory of the muscled finger twisted inside, her despoiled cunt feeling vacant and shredded.

Rey hadn’t expected him to be so _strong_. But his arms had clamped her to him with ease, his chest like marble against her. And his cock…

Rey swallowed hard, already rejecting her resolve to confront the details of reality. It was torture. Too much of her own complicity in the entire mess threatened her resentment and hurt. Could she even blame him, when she’d turned against him, actually _fighting_ him, mocking his position and doubting his power?

Shaking her head, causing a sharp pang in her neck, Rey stifled a cry. The night would never end.

\---------

Rising at his habitual hour, Luke occupied himself with chores. His mood was strangely even despite recent events. He was no longer conflicted or tormented about Rey’s presence, or his desire for her. Last night had offered deliverance from twenty years of uncertainty regarding his obligations. What was left to determine was the future, but the possibilities left him untroubled.

One of the Lanai caretakers approached Luke as he headed back towards the settlement. She was jabbering rapidly, unhappy about something. Resigned, he stopped walking and looked down at the small figure, trying to make sense of her Jawa-esque grunts and trills. When the Lanai got up in arms about something, they were harder than usual to figure out.

“Yes. Alright. I understand. I’m sure it’s nothing. Don’t worry. Yes, I will.”

Luke watched the habited creature bustle away. It was Rey. When they complained to him, it was always Rey. In this case, however, the Lanai had taken the girl’s absence as evidence of illness. The caretakers all had a justified dislike for Rey, who had not gone out of her way to endear herself to them, yet this one had been elected to convey the Lanai’s perfunctory solicitude to the resident Jedi.

Considering his options for the first time that day, Luke’s hand drifted towards his lightsaber. He had retrieved both just after dawn, and the weight of the hilt was unfamiliar after all these years. Last night, he had intended to end her life, but in the midst of…whatever it had been…Luke had stopped caring about Rey’s descent into the Dark. He had allowed her embrace of the sinister side of the Force to envelop himself as well. And now…now he supposed he had to deal with practical matters.

\---------

The mid-afternoon sun barely pushed its way through the cracks in Rey’s hut. Everything was dim as she awoke, her eyes crusty from fitful sleep. Wiping her face with her arm, Rey groaned as a harsh sting in her shoulder and cut forehead rewarded her lack of consideration.

Cursing, Rey decided against movement once more. How could she get up? How could she face Luke?

At the thought of his name, a scalding wave of heat washed over Rey like an abusive tide. She wondered about his cock, which she hadn’t seen, only felt. _This isn’t normal, is it?_ He had broken her, torn her apart.

Rey winced at the memory, trying to shove it somewhere her brain couldn’t access it. She would examine what had happened and invent excuses later. It was time for a plan. Leave Ahch-To, go back to the Resistance and tell General Leia…Tell General Leia what? That she had been drawn to the Dark Side, and Jedi hero Luke Skywalker stopped her? That she had destroyed any hope of convincing Luke to come to their aid? Betrayed her brother’s trust?

Feeling sorry for herself, choking on a concoction of nauseating and fearful thoughts, Rey finally pushed herself upright. Her bones seemed to contract, but she did her best to disregard the multitude of aches that raised objections at her assumption of the vertical.

She had to come up with a plan, yes, but didn’t have a clue how to proceed. And there was no one to ask. Limping to the hut entrance, Rey cracked it open and peeked outside. The sun, low in the sky, hurt her eyes. She saw Luke in the distance, and hurriedly shut the door. Her pulse tripled, her vision blurred. He looked…normal. Unconcerned.

She had to face him. She knew it. But she didn’t know how.

Her limbs felt frozen, but Rey forced her bloodied legs to move towards the water basin. She would clean up, wash her visible lacerations, get dressed, and then figure out what to do.

\---------

Dressed and uncomfortable, Rey tried to sit, but found the pain too extreme. She wanted to meditate, to look for answers, but could not stifle the stabbing reminders of how she had been fucked raw against cold, wet rocks.

Giving up, she went to the door, flinging it open lest she lose her nerve, only to see Luke Skywalker standing there with one hand reaching for the handle. He wore white, the color’s brightness garish and disturbing.

Speechless, Rey’s thoughts sought refuge. Was she trapped? Or could she try to push past him into the afternoon haze?

“The Lanai…” Luke began, calmer than she, “asked if you were sick.” His eyes scoured her, inscrutable. Rey was agitated, and Luke ignored it. “There are no Ho’Din herbs here, but…” he raised his prosthetic hand, and for the first time Rey noticed it held a steaming cup. It smelled awful.

“This will make sure there are no complications.”

Automatically, Rey reached out and took the medicinal tea, grateful that she only had to touch steel and not skin to do so. She bit back the “thank you” that reflex tried to make her utter, and dragged her eyes back to Luke’s, trying to figure out what was happening. It hadn’t escaped her that he wore his weapon, and she remembered well that he’d been ready to kill her yesterday.

But Luke looked poised to leave, so Rey forced herself to speak, the words like lead in her throat. She, as usual, had so many questions, and no idea herself which one was going to escape first.

“Do you…forgive me?”

There was a heavy silence, and then, bewildered, Rey saw a strange, cruel shine in Luke’s eyes as he looked straight into her.

“No.”                                                                                                           

Her breath caught and she felt dizzy. Trying to recover and unable to form another question, Rey looked down at the cup in her hand and tried to focus on its disgusting odor. She brought it to her lips, sipping, fighting back desperation and turmoil.

Luke watched her impassively. He felt nothing but contempt.

The drink was gone, and Rey wanted to cry for the second time since the Cave. “I understand,” she lied, trying to produce the right words and failing. She wanted to continue, ask something that wasn’t completely stupid, but Luke’s gaze stopped her. He…wasn’t right. Wasn’t himself. Suddenly bold, Rey tried to use the Force to read him, and was roughly pushed back by a mental blast that made her stumble. Blue eyes seared her, narrowed and unimpressed.

She opened her lips to apologize or accuse, tasting blood in her mouth, but stopped as Luke stepped decisively into the room and silently closed the door. His total lack of haste or sound unnerved her, and Rey knew she was once again at his mercy.

“Luke, I…” His steel finger snapped up to silence her as the Jedi tilted his head and looked at her with dispassion.

“Don’t. Ever. Try that again.” The volume was a whisper but the words cut to her soul.

Nodding, Rey felt abashed. He hated her. It was obvious. Why didn’t she hate him too? She had every right, Rey thought with growing strength. He’d taken her virginity unasked, heartlessly. Yes, to punish her, perhaps deservedly, but he’d wanted it. Rey was also certain of that. So what right did he have to consider himself above her, above this? Rey found courage in remembering Luke’s craving for her, and met his eyes with abrupt anger in her own.

“Or _what_? You’ll use it as another reason to fuck me?” Rey felt shocked at her own words, but now they just spilled from her lips, no more lead in them. “You wanted me, you got me. And now you want to act like it’s all my fault? You lost control. You could again.”

She was right, of course. But she overestimated her words’ ability to reach Luke. He wasn’t the man he had been yesterday, and guilt no longer held sway over his emotions—or passions, for that matter.

“Maybe you would like that?” Luke asked, the softness in his voice implying everything. He smiled then, coldly, and nodded to the empty cup in her hand. “There’s more of that around.”

Moving to the door, he opened it, pausing with his back to her on the threshold.

“You’re not a prisoner. If you want to get away from me, go.”

He left the door open as he walked out into the fading afternoon.

\---------

The past 24 hours had redefined confusion for Rey. She had never felt so lost in her own head. He’d been absolutely unfazed. What the hell _was_ that? A threat? An invitation? A dare? Luke’s voice, which she’d always sort of liked, had been filtered by shadows. Her stomach still hurt, fluttering and tight, and Rey hugged her middle and sat, hissing as her ass hit the cot.

With her door wide open, soon enough one of the caretakers came in, chattering at her energetically and bringing a plate of food. Rey understood not a word, and the woman fled before she could thank her. Rey was starving, eating so quickly she didn’t even taste the meal.

The food finished, Rey walked outside to see if she could find the Lanai, but they had departed for the day. She plucked a small flower from the grass, lay it on the earthenware plate as a thank you, and left it outside her hut. When she closed the door, the bloom blew away, but she would never know that.

\---------

Back in his unlit dwelling, Luke prepared for bed, satisfied. There was no need to deal with Rey. Apparently he’d fucked her back to the Light, but he wouldn’t be joining her there. As a young Jedi, he’d inherently understood the lure of living without shame or remorse, but never expected this liberation. True balance wasn’t found in the Light or the Dark. It was something new. It meant being reborn in contradiction. It was grey. It was tempestuous. It was peace.

His sleep was dreamless.

\---------

As night arrived, Rey lay on her cot, fully dressed. Sleep seemed the easiest escape from her wasted search for clarity. Luke hated her, yet suggested he’d take her again. His words reverberated in recollection, bouncing around her brain. _“Maybe you would like that?”_ his voice gentle, but twisted. He had seen into her heart, dissected her and tormented her and owned her. She couldn’t turn it off.

“Would I like that?” Rey whispered in the dark. Her hips shifted under the blanket, her chest suddenly bound by invisible ropes. Heat began building between her legs. Her fingers crept beneath the covers, lowering her shirt, imitating the way Luke’s hand had manipulated her breast. Her breathing accelerated. The words repeated, the question repeated, as Rey closed her eyes and caressed herself, unable to duplicate the savagery in her memory, but trying to find release in some approximation of it. Her skin felt dry, needy, and her hands were ignorant and unpracticed.

Remembering the rush of his cock within her, the hard slap of his sex against hers, the taste of his tongue as it attacked her…How he’d so completely lost himself inside her. Rey felt delirious, potent desire suffocating her as she pushed her pants below her thighs. His question became a mantra, a rhythmic incentive to continue.

_Luke Skywalker…the legend…_

Rey’s body took over, her mind no longer required for this. Her newly claimed cunt was willing and wet. Fingers found her clit, pushing and teasing until it was swollen and hurt to touch. She brought the hand back to her lips, tasting herself and smelling him, remembering his mouth’s persistence as it demanded her surrender. Her pelvis thrust up, remnants of pain piercing her core anew, now an erotic souvenir of what Luke had done to her. She cried out, one hand tugging a nipple, the other rubbing her cunt into numbness. Pleasure surged like sunlight behind her eyes. In her fantasy unshaven skin scratched her, hands both flesh and metal roamed every part of her. He’d used her. He needed her. With a final memory of his first touch, his eyes, his voice, that almost tender brush of lips, Rey came, her hips jerking, almost swallowing her index finger as she melted back to the cot’s woven surface.

“He’s a man. He’s just a man,” she breathed to the room’s indifference.


	3. Chapter 3

Pointed shards of the Force rippled in the night, splintering Luke’s sleep. Eyes sealed in concentration, he reached out, welcoming tainted air as it carried Rey’s prurient energy across the courtyard into his room. An inky shimmer of desire melted against his skin, and Luke’s mouth opened slightly, breathing it in. He could feel her, smell her, as the girl’s unguarded passion entered him. Luke clung to it, captured by the strength of it. His tongue slowly licked his lips, savoring the sensation of this unexpected intimacy.

The girl’s capitulation to her sexual needs was tangible, hanging all around him. Luke awaited its dissipation, but the presence lingered, blanketing him, its inspiration. He received her pure lust, letting it nourish his own. Naked beneath the sheet, Luke was already aching for her. It was as if Rey was daring him to match her, and Luke would not ignore this challenge.

Arising quickly, he shrugged into a robe. Rey wanted him. Begged for him. It was undeniable, the Force communicating her wishes more perfectly than words ever could.

The stars hid from him as Luke crossed the short distance to Rey’s hut. Only the slightest of pauses at her door before he entered, eyes fixed immediately upon the girl lying carelessly before him.

Rey bolted up, sore and spent, but no longer confused. Luke’s intention was clear. A subtle menace seemed to emanate from the Jedi, but she didn’t have time to consider it before he stalked to her side and uncovered her, yanking the thin blanket to the floor. Rey hadn’t yet arranged her clothes, having gladly succumbed to lethargy after the orgasm shook and exhausted her. Her breasts were bare to the cold, her shirt at her waist, her pants at her knees. Luke’s mouth twitched slightly as he raked her with his eyes, an icy fire burning in them.

Embarrassed and angry at being discovered, Rey tried to focus, but Luke was not offering her any time to gather thoughts or defenses. His robe dropped to the floor, and she registered his naked body for the first time.

Rey’s hazel eyes avoided Luke’s face, alighting first on his prominent collarbones, all but hidden by his beard. She _wanted_ to look, grasping for an excuse, thinking this wasn’t going to happen again, she would say no, even as her gaze wandered lower, shadows and light playing across his outline in flickering chiaroscuro.

She took in the definition in his arms, shaped by toil and training. His body was aging, but not yet old. The muscles in his chest still held their form beneath tight skin, and his lean legs were those of a younger man.

And his erection was not the monster of her imagining, but Rey paled at the sight of him, hard, pointed, completely open and indifferent to her regard.

Luke followed her appraisal, a coolness about him. Once Rey’s eyes came to rest on his cock, he moved to stand before her. Rey balked. She’d never…and it was too big…and how could he even…She felt a fool at her own inexperience.

As his left hand reached for her head, Rey parted her lips, doubting her ability to do this. She took the crown of him awkwardly in her mouth. Her face felt stretched, her jaw gaping, as Luke pushed past her teeth and into the moist smoothness within. He waited, letting her adjust, letting her figure out what she would do.

Her eyes met Luke’s as she reached for the root of him, pushing back the stiff hair at his base and clearing his shaft for her attention. Her tongue moved over his head, darting like a small fish as she flitted and licked. It was obvious she couldn’t swallow his length, so Rey dedicated herself to more delicate maneuvers, tongue dancing around his cock, navigating taut skin to lick the sides and bottom, where she found his flavor exotic and heady. Her pulse quickened as she felt Luke arch against her, his balls contracting as precum greased her lips. Her hands moved faster, her own body leaning into him. Rey’s eyes didn’t leave Luke’s face, his eyebrows drawn low as he returned her stare.

Luke watched Rey suck him, tasting him, enjoying him, and became even harder in her mouth. His fingers scraped through her hair, demanding and deliberate, urging her on. She gagged once, recovered, and Luke drove further into her throat, mesmerized by thin lips strained by his thickness, luminous eyes that were riveted to his face, small fingers stroking him with growing confidence.

But it wasn’t her confidence Luke was after. He wanted to immerse himself in her again, to use her to his satisfaction and completion. His hips pulled away from the warmth of her mouth. Rey discarded her clothes swiftly, feeling her own juices dripping between trembling legs as she scrambled to make sense of this. What was she doing? Her mouth was full of his taste, her tongue numb. Rey acknowledged her failure to resist him as defeat. Although still aching from Luke’s previous violation, she now offered herself to him, without a word passed between them.

Sensing Rey’s talkative nature starting to assert itself, Luke pushed her firmly back onto the threadbare cot and covered her body with the heat of his, their limbs colliding, pressed deeply as one into the fabric.

It was so different having him on top of her, the weight of him crushing and secure. Rey could see Luke’s lined face in the darkness, his perfect inexpression, his eyes unknowable lakes where her secrets dissolved. She lifted her neck and their mouths met, saliva mixing, tongues sloppy, and then he was inside her again, without warning.

Her fingers clenched and tiny nails bit into his shoulders. Luke took Rey’s hands in his cybernetic one, lifting her arms high above her head, and pinned her there. She was hyperaware of every movement, oversensitive from her recent orgasm and the ferocious consummation of the night before. Her joints protested and insides wept as Luke’s cock disappeared completely inside her cunt, forcing her narrow walls to accommodate him. Rey cried out in pain as the entirety of him tore into her again, and Luke silenced her with his rough kiss. Their bodies met and parted in a desperate, lyric dance. Rey felt she could taste infinity as he crashed into her repeatedly, and thought she might be dying. There was only this rhythm and tension and release between them, tying them together, submerging her in an agony of desire and belonging.

Rey’s arms fought for freedom from Luke’s iron grip, and incredibly, he released her. Panting, her fingers started at Luke’s face, threading through his long grey hair, down over his coarse skin, pulling him closer to her, roaming, clutching at his ass, his back. Her legs looped higher on his waist as Luke drew her tighter against him. The new angle was excruciating, and Rey collapsed, half-sobbing, unable to meet his pistoning thrusts. Her dulled eyes recorded Luke as he continued fucking her, recognizing her contribution was no longer important. His prosthetic hand dug into her hip as he fell into her, hitting her center, making her scream again and sending her hair flying. His impatient mouth lowered to her chest, his sweat trickling onto her hypersensitive and overheated stomach. The combination of his teeth and surrounding bristles abrading her was maddening. He attacked her nipples and breasts, biting without pity as she cried out. Her hands twisted in his hair as hungry teeth tormented her neck and his tongue lashed at her ear. Rey’s body was refined by his lips; the rough sex had distilled her into her most base and erotic form. She shuddered and moaned at the sensory abundance, utterly vanquished.

Turning her head back to face him, Rey moved her hands to Luke’s shoulders, trailing them down his chest as he lifted away from her and slowed his pace inside her body.

Luke was beautiful, she thought wonderingly. He was like a fragment of nature, broken off from the whole. This disillusioned man had allowed himself to be separated from the Force, welcomed it as an escape. But Rey suddenly knew she could bring him back, reunite him with the Light and convince him to save the Jedi, the galaxy.

This brief interlude of naïve thought was rapidly dismantled as her tortured cunt shrieked for attention. An eruption was building in her heart, like nothing Rey had felt before. Luke’s deceleration hurtled her towards destructive heights, his cock intense inside her, sliding deep, withdrawing, inexorably trapped by muscles that simultaneously embraced and fought each inch of him. A torrent of pleasure blinded her, making Rey forget all noble intentions, as a painful orgasm shattered her body from her toes to her nipples.

Luke tensed as Rey came, his thoughts bearing no similarity to hers. She rose and fell against him like foam on the sea, and before she could recover, he felt his own climax building. He watched her belly wave and pulsate beneath him, and glided his hands over her breasts, trying to delay, breathing deeply to prolong this. A harsh bolt of lightning ran him through, weakening his legs as he slammed inside her one more time, wanting to wound her without knowing why. But Rey was beyond that now. Luke realized he couldn’t harm her, couldn’t extort something willingly given. As cum flowed in hot spurts from his core to hers, Luke felt the loss of that power acutely, his essence deserting him along with his advantage over her.


	4. Chapter 4

Now there was absence. Absence of sound, light, and contact. The atmosphere had become a vacuum, swallowing everything. Sexual energy had been transmuted into this heavy nothingness, and as their bodies separated, Luke felt cold. He could sense more than see Rey’s eyes following him as he pushed himself off the cot and bent for his robe.

“Wait…” Rey sat up, trying to fight off the fatigue that oppressed every part of her. Luke slid his arms into ragged sleeves and ignored her. Annoyed, Rey swung her legs over the rounded frame of her bed and bit back the groan the movement raised.

The clarity that had been so welcome earlier in the day seemed distant, and Luke knew both that he did not wish to discuss this with Rey, and that his newfound balance would be threatened if he did. Her hand reached out as if to stop him, and Luke took a breath, calming himself, and focused his energy on Rey’s troubled mind.

“We don’t have anything to talk about.” His voice was as featureless as the surface of a placid lake. Reassuring and indisputable.

A small twitch in her brain, a weird tingling in her throat, and Rey was confused.

“We don’t have anything to talk about…” she repeated, unsure and tasting the words carefully.

“You’re tired and need to go to sleep.”

She _was_ tired. She was exhausted. But wasn’t there something more important? They needed to figure this out, she wanted to help him, to convince him of _something_ but the thought was dim and fading.

“I’m tired. I need to go to sleep.”

_Why don’t I ask him to stay?_ Rey thought, her tongue not obeying her intention. She fought on some reflexive level against Luke’s influence on her mind, but a combination of mental and physical exertion had weakened her instincts and defenses. She lay back on the cot, closing her eyes, still trying to speak but unable to form any words. She heard the squeal of hinges as Luke left her hut. And then Rey slept, as if on command.

 

\-----------

 

Fog swirled around Luke in the hospitable night as a misty rain blew haphazardly. The shape of his dwelling beckoned, but Luke found he wanted to avoid walls. The post-orgasmic claustrophobia of Rey’s room had been banished by the expansive outdoors, and he wasn’t eager to see if it extended into his own quarters.

Once, Luke may have had qualms about using a Jedi mind trick so casually, but tonight he only felt grateful for the ability. He wanted to avoid contemplation about what he’d sensed as he fucked her, so conversation was out. Luke couldn’t pretend he hadn’t felt it—Rey’s misplaced mixture of emotions, directed at him. Artless and bright and transparent. Exhaling, Luke turned and walked towards the ocean.

 

\-----------

 

The moon gleamed on the breakers as they swelled and burst. Luke leaned against the bluff and let the refrain of the surf clear his head. It hadn’t been his mistake to go to her—it was her mistake to misinterpret his actions. His body relaxed, muscles unwound and tension dissipated. Luke’s breathing slowed gradually to match the rhythm of the waves. Coming from a desert planet, he hadn’t expected to feel at home on Ahch-To, but the years had created a symbiosis between them. When he doubted his purpose or place, the Jedi had often found reassurance in these endless waters. Time had little meaning to the sea, and there was peace in that.

Luke let the cliff against his back receive the weight of his thoughts along with his body. Pulling up his hood, he emptied his mind and felt his equilibrium return.

 

\-----------

 

Another dawn, and Rey awoke in no more comfort than yesterday. She was freezing and the sunlight seeping between the cracks bore no heat. No clothes, no blanket. Collecting her things from where they had been scattered, she made her way through the simple morning routine. It was only after she had picked up the blanket from the floor that she paused to think about what had happened—what she had done. What _they_ had done.

Rey smiled, a quick light across her lips, her eyes glowing.

She hadn’t meant to call him, but, inadvertently, she had. And Luke had come to her.

Her heart beat faster. Turning to look at the door, the cot, she felt awful and amazing, smug and terrified. He wanted her. She wanted him. It was so…different. Unexpected. Rey felt more optimistic than she had since she arrived on this island. Maybe now things would be resolved and Luke…Well, she didn’t know what Luke would do. But he had to at least talk to her.

Decided, Rey stepped out into the day and walked to Luke’s door, knocking firmly on the hard metal. No answer. Using the Force, she couldn’t sense him nearby. No matter. She would seek him out. Together they could determine what all this meant.

 

\-----------

 

The Force rippled and Luke pushed it away. Rey was looking for him, but she wouldn’t find him unless he willed it. His focus returning, he reached out to the submerged T-65 shimmering in the waters below. The Jedi extended his arm, concentrating on making the connections between himself and the vessel. The air carried his power like a current, plunging into the ocean, forming a bridge of life and strength that was limitless in potential. The X-wing rose evenly up the rocky crags, water and algae sliding from its metal hull as it emerged into the sunlight. Luke felt his chest constrict at the sight of his old ship. It felt good to snap the tethers that had long held him to this place. And it had been a lifetime since he’d flown.

The dripping chassis settled to the grassy earth with a solid, resolute thud. Luke smiled at the view. No rust, just some barnacles and sea sludge to deal with. He liked the idea of cleaning the starfighter himself, and walked around it, taking inventory of what needed to be done before it was flightworthy.

 

\-----------

 

It was already late afternoon, and Rey was exasperated. She hadn’t been able to find Luke anywhere. She’d even tried asking the caretakers, who seemed to understand the question, but shook their heads and hurried out of her path. As it was, she was on the far side of the island and it would take her almost an hour to walk back to her hut. She was now convinced Luke was avoiding her, and with the moral rectitude of the recently deflowered, she felt he owed her an explanation.

As the sun was sinking, she finally reached the settlement, surprised to see Luke’s door was open. As she approached, she saw her error—the door wasn’t open. There _was_ no door. And Luke wasn’t there. Pausing at the rocky bench outside, Rey considered. The door was gone. Luke was gone.

Rey entered the domed building, looking around. Luke’s few possessions were still there, so it wasn’t as if he had disappeared. But it was soon night, and it wasn’t a huge island. She grabbed a small torch off the table. Back outside, Rey closed her eyes and drew upon the Force once more. This time, she was less surprised to not find Luke. She wasn’t going to give up. Turning on the torch, she set off across the grass.

 

\-----------

 

Luke finished scouring the depths of the temple for gear. He’d done pretty well, considering. No inhabitant of this island seemed to throw anything away. With the S-foil back in place, it was still going to be a long shot, but he was looking forward to the challenge. The areas of his brain dedicated to mechanics and piloting were waking up, and it made him feel younger. If required, he’d search the Falcon for scraps. Chewie would be happy to donate, no doubt, if it meant getting the X-wing back in form.

The stone staircase in the antechamber was dark and covered with moss. Luke tread deliberately, his feet slowing as he sensed Rey’s presence. She was inside, waiting.

Rey heard his footsteps and sighed with relief. At last. She’d been listening to languid drops of condensation plop into the mosaic pool for what felt like hours. Standing up from its border, she turned to watch the hooded figure enter the chamber.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Luke said nothing. His eyes were shielded by the robe. She couldn’t see more than their faint shine. “We need to talk.” Rey’s words were earnest, her voice pleading. But she stopped, seeking some confirmation from him.

“I’m here.” Unperturbed. Unreadable.

It wasn’t the response she was looking for. But she stepped closer, sensing his guard, but committed to this now. When she climbed the steps to the temple, Rey had looked to the shoreline and seen the unmistakable outline of the old fighter Luke had reclaimed from the ocean. It bothered her. It seemed a bad omen, more than just another item to add to the list of incomprehensible happenings over the past few days.

“I failed you. I know that’s a part of this. But last night…” She faltered. He wasn’t going to help at all, was he? “…Was different.” Luke still said nothing, but she felt a latent hostility she couldn’t explain. Frustrated, she changed her tack. “What does any of this mean, Luke? I don’t understand, so I don’t know what you expect from me.” She waited before him, reminiscent of her confrontational stance at the Cave. “Talk to me. Tell me.”

Luke had anticipated something like this, and been able to prepare for it. He answered with no hesitation, his voice even. “You understood well enough yesterday. Reasons to fuck you, right?”

Rey winced at the profanity, despite it being an echo of her own phrase. She knew she was inexperienced, but she had been certain there was something else—a connection, a possibility, a future…How could he make her feel so stupid with so few words?

“There’s more to it,” she insisted, trying to convince both of them. “Admit it.”

Luke sighed and lowered his hood, looking at her with something akin to pity. She hated him for that look.

“You’re wasting your time romanticizing it.” His words sliced her heart, the hope bleeding out of it. Rey shook her head, unwilling to believe that she had imagined everything.

“Tell me the truth,” she demanded, hearing the weakness in her own voice and trying to overcome it. “I felt it. There…” _There was conflict_ she wanted to finish, but Luke’s posture and regard made her doubt her conviction. What had she seen? Was she really trying to inject emotion into something exclusively carnal? She had been so sure that she could reach him, but Luke’s gaze told her she was humiliating herself.

“Search your feelings, Rey,” Luke said, and Rey realized this was the first time he’d said her name since he’d taken her at the Cave. The sound, persuasive and pure, made her want him again. Her stomach tensed and blood raced. Why did she respond to him like this?

Rey took a deep breath and attempted to do as Luke asked. It was difficult. The old Jedi temple had an innate power—it interfered with her own abilities and focus. Her thoughts felt enhanced and complex. It seemed impossible to know her own mind, or how the location was influencing her reactions. As she looked into herself, Rey remained unconvinced of any error in her assumptions. Yes, she had feelings for him. Completely misdirected, foolish hopes that her body hadn’t just been used without a thought for her psyche. Luke had instructed her and mentored her and now he knew her more intimately than anyone ever had. But…she couldn’t read him at all. He’d closed himself off to her, to the Force, to everything. It was like he was invisible. _It’s not fair_ , Rey thought, knowing her instinctive and amateurish command of this mystical power wasn’t enough to divine a Jedi Master’s thoughts or motivations.

Luke interrupted her spiraling contemplation, gently, but with a hint of mockery that stung. “What did you think was going to happen here? We’d run away and save the galaxy together? I told you already—I know what you need, and I can’t be that. I don’t _want_ to be that, Rey.”

A cascade of desperation electrified Rey as his words resounded in the darkened temple, hurting her ears. He _thought_ he was telling the truth. Luke meant he didn’t want to be her teacher, her lover, her ally. But she had _felt_ it; she had perceived him as he _should_ be. But words weren’t working, so Rey came closer, her hands reaching for him. Luke didn’t back away, the moonlight shadows skipping across his face as warm hazel met glacial blue. Her truth was different. She had to make him see what she had seen. Leaning in, Rey pressed her lips to his, feeling the scratch of his beard, the heat of his mouth. Rey imagined she felt his walls drop, and flung her arms around his neck to kiss him more deeply. He just needed to remember…to understand…

Luke let her kiss him, felt her novice tongue slide along his teeth. She tasted so light, so full of hope. Rey apparently felt this was the way to his acquiescence. He couldn’t decide if it was amusing, insulting, or pathetic. When her hands cradled his head, Luke’s passivity disintegrated, and he kissed her back, hard, then pushed her away. His pants were already tight, his pulse quickening. Rey wouldn’t be deterred, however, and came at him again, pulling her shirt over her shoulders.

“I know you want me. It’s alright.” She saw his hesitation as victory, and her confidence grew as she stripped. He was afraid to show he cared…He knew she had seen through him…She was so close to convincing him... All these thoughts rushing through her brain. All badly mistaken.

“Rey,” Luke took in her excited face and firm breasts, a warning in his eyes. “This is not going to go the way you think.”

“I don’t care,” she railed at him, ignoring the threat. “Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself!”

He’d stopped lying to himself two nights ago. Now only Rey had delusions about fucking him. Of course he wanted her. But she was imprinting him with false sentiment, and asking him to join her in some impossible fairy tale. Before he had doubted, felt guilt, had illusions, but Luke no longer was bound by definitions or roles. Nothing was forbidden to him. And Rey, he was certain, had no idea _how_ he wanted her. Not when she was so insistent and irrational. Luke had an undeniable urge to show her definitively how wrong she was. This wasn’t romance, this was primal. And it wasn’t about her. It was about accepting desire and release. It was about lack of conscience and consequence.

Water in the shallow pool glittered as the moon glowed in the sinister sky. The mysterious primeval Jedi in the mosaic seemed to quiver as its surface vibrated. And Rey stood now entirely nude in this ancient venue, chilled by the wind, daring him to resist her. Her youthful body ready to serve him, her eyes meeting his with a challenge. Luke was tempted by the display, but also found it childish. She was letting feelings cloud her judgment. Hadn’t he just told her that he would not be the partner she wanted? Instead of rejecting him, she believed his true passions would be revealed if only she could seduce him into another coupling.

Her opinion of him needed correcting.

So she thought he was a slave to carnal impulse? That a good lay held the key to his heart? Luke could teach her just how little she meant to him, apart from the pleasure he took from her body. Maybe his mistake had been in his lack of selfishness in her bed. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Luke smiled faintly as he absorbed the holy energy of the Temple, letting it fortify him. Before he’d taken Rey’s virginity, he’d invented any number of scenarios to accompany his self-gratification. There were myriad fantasies to choose from, yet somehow the most profane seemed appropriate here, in this sacred place.

“A lesson, then,” Luke said, almost to himself. Taking his time, he opened his robe, sensing Rey’s specious wave of triumph and letting it roll against him, feeding his irritation. His entire body felt pressurized, his cock ready to serve as a tool of instruction. He was free to lose control, the target of his tutorial willing and waiting.

Rey heard Luke’s tone and refused to analyze it. His voice was not soft, calm, or teasing. The Force around him seethed with negativity, and she felt supremely foolish, naked and alone. But before she could decide how to react, she lost the ability to do so. Luke had bound her using the Force. Rey couldn’t move. The sensation was as horrible as it was familiar, a prisoner in her own skin. Didn’t he see this wasn’t necessary? She had been ready…

Rey was lifted into the air, toes hovering just barely above the ground, even her eyeballs held immobile in their sockets. She wrestled mentally, literally petrified and unable to lift a finger. The only signs of her struggle were the veins in her neck standing out from the strain. It was worse than when Kylo Ren had found her on Takodana. There, she had at least trembled. Here, she was a statue.

Luke gave no sign of any exertion as Rey glided to the middle of the Temple, where starlight dimly fell from the ceiling. When she was above the Prime Jedi symbol at the bottom of the pool, he flipped her, ass towards him, hands and knees brought into the water, perfectly centered atop the pebbles representing Light and Dark. She was the one who had been lying to herself, and Luke was ready to bring her self-deception into relief.

In the space of two heartbeats, he was behind her, immune to the distress and effort emanating from the girl’s form. When she had arrived on Ahch-To, Rey had been unattainable and innocent. Now she was proof of the inevitable corruption of all things, and the futility of resistance. Luke grabbed Rey’s hips, pulling her ass higher as he joined her in the sacred pool. She was frightened. The fear served his lust, and proved this was what she needed. When he was done with her, there would be no question regarding the nature of their relationship.

Luke traced the cleft of her ass with his thumb, spreading her cheeks and exposing Rey’s asshole. So dark and hidden, ideal for his purpose. He bent over her, gathering saliva and spitting noisily, watching the liquid trickle down her crack. Licking a finger, he massaged her puckered entrance, opening it with an almost ritual deliberation. He felt Rey’s fear intensify as she began to understand. Giving in to impulse, he bent and licked a wide swath along her crevice. Her skin tasted metallic from fright and anticipation. Luke’s hunger grew, his erection throbbing impatiently as his mouth left her. He registered the heat of her thighs, and reached between them to her cunt, knowing what he would find. She was soaked, her incriminating wetness now dripping into the pool, becoming part of the mosaic’s liquid window. Luke pushed rough fingers unceremoniously into her drenched slit, feeling the tension within her, the ache in her core. His coated fingers then returned to her ass, penetrating her tiny hole without preamble. First his slick middle finger, then the index joining. She wasn’t ready, but that was the point. It wasn’t about her. Her wants had no place in this.

Rey no longer cared if her paralysis was rooted in her own dread or Luke’s uncaring power; the result was the same. Her body burned, her ass resisting Luke’s ingress. She would have screamed if she had control over her vocal cords as he stretched her, wider than before. At the Cave, she had the distraction of his cock pounding her and his hand pinning her. Now there was nothing but this feeling of being torn, frozen and helpless. Luke wanted to debase her. He had rejected his feelings, and any attempt to show him his true self he deflected with this abuse.

Spitting once more into his hand, Luke stroked his rigid cock. Rey was no longer actively resisting his hold over her, he realized. That would make fucking her simpler. She had become complicit in her own violation. Maintaining his grip with the Force, Luke slid his steel hand to her neck, well-positioned to caress or to choke. The left held his swollen erection, lining it up with her most vulnerable hole. His hips leaned into her, relentless. Luke pushed past her muscled ring quickly, but not easily. The mixture of secretions made for a poor lubricant, and he felt the painful abrasion as his cock invaded her ass. She was hot and confining. Luke pressed further, his hand stiffening around her neck, holding her firm as the length of him drove deeper. Water splashed beneath them from the movement, and Luke’s eyes followed the drops as they speckled Rey’s skin. Her ass fought against the intrusion, strong muscles clenched and contracted, protesting and pushing him away. Luke groaned as his cock flexed inside her, feeling her sphincter tightening, powerless to expel him.

Rey had thought losing her virginity hurt, but it had been nothing compared to this. The air in the temple was freezing, her insides were on fire. All was nerves and sensation, searing and alien. Every piece of her awareness was centered on the pain, a sharp burning that would not diminish. She couldn’t adjust, couldn’t get used to the feeling of his cock in her ass. His fingers had been uncomfortable, but this was sheer agony. Rey tried to call upon the Force to help her, calm her, still the fire in her suffering asshole, but it eluded her. Despairing, she started to concentrate on Luke. If she couldn’t help herself, maybe she could stop him instead.

The compression on his cock was exquisite. Luke had known it would be good, but this perfect sheath that wrapped him, pulled him in, held him there, it was beyond anything he could have dreamed. The poor lubrication made movement difficult, but even the slightest shift in his alignment resulted in a spasm of pleasure. This penetration, unnatural and painful, was exactly what they both needed. Luke knew any discomfort he felt had to be terribly magnified for her, so he welcomed it. Gritting his teeth against the heated friction, Luke began to slide out ever so slightly, and then slammed back inside her misused passage. Again. And again. He wanted this. The intensity scorched him, the violence of each thrust crystallizing the warped ecstasy that was already building in his core.

The pain as she was impaled shocked Rey into an instinctive defense, thoughtless and powerful. Luke’s concentration was divided, and she snatched the small chance offered by his inattention. Rey aimed all her energy at his cock, at evicting him from her insides. The temple floor shook, the walls rumbled, and Luke’s prosthetic closed tighter around her throat as she felt the Force separate their hips. Luke still hung on to her, his left hand grabbing at her waist as Rey tried to stand, gasping for air. The shallow water sloshed and escaped its edges. Luke dragged her back against him, and they both slipped to their knees, feet failing to find purchase on the polished stones.

Rey felt Luke’s hardness, undaunted by her offensive, as he pressed their bodies together, subduing her. Objects began to careen around them, her turbulent powers augmented and distorted by the temple itself. Rey continued to struggle, but Luke forced her down, his legs tangled in hers. He had been startled at her Force tantrum, but was undeterred by the debris she was randomly flailing about, now restraining her with only his physical strength. A large rock crashed into Rey’s elbow as she realized she was totally unable to control her chaotic attack. Finding her voice at last, she surrendered, feeling the Force desert her as she collapsed beneath Luke, face in her hands.

“Please…please please please…” it was the only thing that came out. He had won. She couldn’t fight him anymore. Everything hurt, inside and out. The pressure of the inhuman grip on her throat relaxed, and Rey let out a strangled sob.

Luke would have preferred a delayed victory. He still wanted her. He looked down at his aching shaft, covered in their juices and her blood. The sight was enough to slow his heart rate and temper his appetite for her. Luke stood up, looking down at his defiled student as he stepped out of the pool. Rey sat crookedly in its center, shoulders shaking, silent. The girl from Nowhere who should return to Nowhere. She had no place here with him.

The other night, Luke had watched and waited for Rey to recover and depart. Tonight, he felt no such compunction. Pulling up his hood and straightening his robe, he gathered up the parts he had collected for the X-wing and headed back down the mountain.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written to challenge the sadly prevalent idea that there are "rules" to fandoms. There are no rules. None of us know these characters. There is no such thing as a "wrong" story or unacceptable ship, or way to ship. If you want to do it, do it. That's the beauty of fanfic. Make your favorite or hated characters do whatever the hell you want. Thanks for reading.


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